"Listen, listen,
I would take a whisper if that's all you had to give.
But it isn't, is it?
You could come and save me and try to chase the crazy right out of my head.
I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name
like a fool at the top of my lungs.
Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright,
but it's never enough
cause my echo, echo
is the only voice coming back.
Shadow, shadow
is the only friend that I have."
~Echo by Jason Walker
Ryou didn't leave his house after Tristan dropped him off. He stayed there for days with his landline off the hook and his cellphone turned off. No doubt, Yugi and his friends were trying to get a hold of him, but he wasn't in the mood to speak with any of them. He wasted the days away on his couch in sweats and a baggy t-shirt, watching Netflix nearly nonstop. Bakura's presence in his mind came and went intermittently, but Ryou didn't ask any questions. He knew Bakura hated it when Ryou tried asking him personal questions. The weekend came and went, and Ryou still didn't leave his domain. He hadn't been suspended or expelled from school—not since he'd been dubbed a victim—but he still didn't think he could show his face there again. He was convinced that everyone but his friends hated him, even the teachers. Yet, everyone, including his friends, feared him.
Little did he know that Kaiba had continued searching doggedly for Ryou's father—more out of boredom than compassion, but it didn't change the results.
On Tuesday, around noon, Ryou heard a knock on the front door. He didn't move off the couch, assuming it to be the postman. But when the knock was repeated a few more times, Ryou dragged himself off the couch and to the door. He unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door a crack, expecting—hoping, really, but not truly expecting—to see Joey playing truant as he tried to pull his friend out of his gloomy domicile. It wasn't Joey at his door, though.
"Dad?" he whispered as the door fell open further, his voice hoarse from not being used. His eyes grew round as his father stood there, nervously shifting his weight between his feet, not quite able to look his son in the eye. It didn't seem to bother Ryou, though, who threw himself at his father and embraced him tightly. After so long, he finally saw him again. It had been far too long.
"Hello, Ryou." He spoke uncertainly and his hands lightly rested on his son's back.
"I never thought I'd see you again. I thought you didn't care about me anymore." Ryou choked up as his eyes watered, and he tried desperately not to cry. All these years, he'd told himself that if his father just came home, then somehow, everything would be alright.
"How are you?" Mr. Bakura gently guided his son inside and closed the front door. "I haven't heard from you in over a week. I was worried." Ryou released his father suddenly, jerking back to stare at him.
"You got all those messages?" he asked in shock. "If you got my messages, then how come you never…" Ryou could feel his fragile happiness start to shatter in his hands. For just a few moments, everything had been alright. For just a few moments, he'd remembered what it felt like to smile. Surely he deserved more than a mere minute of happiness? Surely he should have gotten more… Was fate really so cruel?
"We need to talk," was all his father said as he placed a single hand on his son's shoulder and guided the stricken teen to the couch. They sat down, and Ryou could feel that his mouth had gone dry. They sat in silence for several moments, neither of them knowing quite what to say.
"After your mother and sister died," the elder Bakura began slowly, making Ryou drop his gaze to his hands. "It was hard for me to move on. Everything reminded me of her, especially you."
Ryou winced and wrapped his arms around himself, trying not to cry. He could tell by his father's tone that this wasn't the end of his story.
"I tried to focus on you and making your life better. I thought I could help you move past your grief by making you forget. I tried to make you forget by spoiling you a bit." He hesitated. "I gave you presents from my trips, hoping they could distract you. I gave you that." He pointed to the Millennium Ring, which hung on a string around Ryou's neck like always. "It wasn't long after that I realized I'd made a terrible mistake."
"What do you mean?" He wanted to know, but he was afraid of the answer all the same.
"A few days after I first gave it to you, I saw him."
Ryou couldn't breathe. He stared down at the Millennium Ring and lifted a hand to press it against his chest, wanting to feel the reassuring weight of it. It was in that moment that he felt Bakura become aware in Ryou's mind, emerging from his soul room to observe this miserable reunion firsthand.
"I couldn't stand to watch my son be possessed by an evil spirit that I gave him."
Mr. Bakura sounded truly regretful, but Ryou took no comfort in that. He was already starting to hate the man he'd loved from afar for six years.
"I couldn't bear to live always looking over my shoulder out of fear like that. Shadi told me that it was your fate to have the Ring, that there was nothing I could do to stop him, so I left. I always intended to come back when he was gone…" His voice trailed off, as if even he realized that he'd been in the wrong.
There were so many things Ryou wanted to say in that instant. He wanted to scream at his father for letting his son struggle and suffer all alone for so long. He wanted to call him a terrible father and say that he never wanted to see him again. He wanted to curse him up and down. He wanted to tell him just exactly what kind of hell he'd left his son to live through while he was gone.
Do it, Yadonushi. For once in your life, defend yourself instead of counting on someone else.
"I always thought," Ryou whispered, staring down at the Millennium Ring as it started to feel warm in his hand. "That if you came home, it would somehow make everything better. I always thought that if you came home, it would feel like I had a family again." He couldn't stop the tears that fell from his eyes and painted his cheeks.
Good start, Yadonushi, but that's not really what you want to tell him. Go ahead, scream and yell. Throw a tantrum. Make yourself heard. Make him feel guilty.
"I cut." The words came out angry and sharp as Ryou suddenly released himself and held out his arms with his scarred wrists upturned, his gaze still down. "I cut because I'm alone and people pick on me. Because I don't have anyone to turn to for help."
Scream at him, Yadonushi! Bakura urged in the back of his mind, making it hard for Ryou to maintain any kind of focus.
"I cut because have to pay the bills all on my own, and I'm depressed, and I hate my jobs. I cut because there's a voice in my head that I can't get rid of and my father's too much of a coward to stick around!" He crossed his arms, not wanting to share his scars anymore. His vision blurred with tears as he stared down into his lap, he pursed his lips as he tried to get a hold of himself.
"Ryou—" His father tried to reach out to him, sounding sad and regretful, but Ryou pulled away from him.
"I don't want to see you ever again," the teenager whispered as he closed his eyes. His father sighed and stood.
"I'm sorry. When he's gone, or if you ever want me to come back—"
"I'll call," Ryou finished bitterly. Not that it did me much good in the past, he thought to himself. "Don't count on my calling anytime soon, though."
Mr. Bakura left then, closing the door with a dull thud. Ryou should have gotten up and locked it, but he didn't care at the moment. He didn't care about anything in those moments as he wrapped himself up in a warm blanket and cocooned himself on the couch, sobbing into a throw pillow.
That, Yadonushi, is what it feels like to stand up for yourself.
"It hurts, Bakura," Ryou choked out through his tears. "It hurts… Please, make it stop," he begged, only to receive a sharp reprimand.
No, Landlord. I'm done enabling your petty, selfish behavior. He could feel Bakura's unveiled disdain.
"Make it stop," he pleaded through his tears, clutching the blanket to himself with his small, ineffectual fists. When he didn't receive an answer, he realized that Bakura had left him again, closing off his mind to go do gods-knew-what in his soul room. Ryou bawled shamelessly after that, losing even his interest in Netflix. He didn't leave the couch, trying to prove to Bakura that he was strong enough not to cut himself again, no matter how much he wanted to.
By Tuesday, none of Yugi's friends, nor Yugi himself, had heard anything from Ryou. They couldn't get in touch by text, call, email, IM, or anything. Tristan volunteered to visit him after school and make sure that he was alright. After going a whole week without hearing from him, he'd shown up at school with a bomb. They didn't want to risk repeating that experience.
"Anybody home?" Tristan called as he knocked on Ryou's front door for the fourth time. Finally, he decided to try the handle. It was unlocked. He tentatively opened the door and poked his head in. "Hello? Ryou?"
"Tristan?"
The answering call was soft and sad, and the brunette stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him as he tried to find Ryou in the darkness.
"What are you doing here?" Ryou asked as he sat up on the couch, his rumpled white hair standing out in the dim living room and alerting Tristan to where his friend was located.
"We were worried about you. I wanted to see how you were doing," he answered as he stepped forward. Ryou rubbed his eyes and looked down at his hands. He seemed dull, listless. He was inside his own home, and even though Tristan was there, he didn't have any interest in hiding the truth anymore. Tristan looked uncomfortable for a few moments before he cleared his throat and tried again.
"How are you doing?"
"Awful." Ryou crossed his arms and leaned back against the couch cushion as he glared at the floor.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Tristan moved to sit on the edge of the coffee table, forcing Ryou to face him. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Ryou glanced up at his friend, his glare fading into despair. Earnest concern filled Tristan's face, and Ryou could tell that he genuinely cared about trying to make him feel better.
"I don't know," he answered with a small shrug. He didn't think that anything could make him feel better, so he didn't know what else to say.
"Have you heard anything about your father?"
Ryou winced, and nodded slightly. "He was here a few hours ago. He only stayed a few minutes before he left again."
Tristan was flabbergasted by this. "After all that, he just up and left?" he exclaimed, making Ryou feel a bit better just by expressing anger on his behalf. "Want me to kick his ass for you?"
His offer surprised a shaky laugh out of his friend. "Now you sound like Joey. I think he's rubbing off on you."
"Well, as long as his intellect—or lack thereof—doesn't rub off on me, I think I'm fine with that."
Ryou laughed again, his burdens feeling just a bit lighter than before. "As long as you use words like 'thereof' I think we can be confident that's not happening."
"Are you cold?" Tristan asked, gesturing to the fuzzy blanket pooled around Ryou's lower half. "Or tired?"
"I'm always tired," Ryou answered with a sigh.
"How about hungry? Are you hungry?" Tristan asked eagerly. "Because I know I am."
"Sure, I could eat," Ryou answered softly, pink touching his cheeks.
"How about we order a pizza, then?"
"Sounds good."
Tristan stood from the coffee table and walked away a bit as he pulled out his cellphone and called the nearest pizza place. Ryou pulled his blanket up around his shoulders as he snuggled into the cushions and closed his eyes briefly. He was tired, after all.
"Why did your dad leave again?" Tristan's question caught him by surprise, making him open his eyes just in time to see the brunette seat himself next to his shorter friend. Ryou swallowed hard.
"I really don't want to talk about it," he muttered looking away.
"Okay then, we won't talk about it," Tristan replied with ease, seeming unconcerned by Ryou's reticence. He was concerned about it, but he just didn't want to upset Ryou right now, not when he'd gotten the quiet, shy Brit to smile. He liked seeing Ryou smile, and something inside of him was already trying to think of ways to make that rare smile reappear.
Author Notes: So, that happened. O_O I initially wanted to end this fic with pure fluff, but then it got really dark all on its own. I guess that's what happens when I don't get reviews: I torture my characters. So review, or I'm going after Joey next! Muhahaha!
…
Now I'm tempted to write a Buddyshipping one-shot with an angsty Joey. *heavy sigh* And I told myself I'd never write Buddyshipping. Just like I thought I'd never write Puppyshipping or Tendershipping… *double facepalm*
